Life

My Finish Line Road: Leukemia Survivor Shoots for Maryland

Dubbed "Remissionman," Steve Brown is now eyeing IRONMAN Maryland. Here's his story, in his own words.

by Steve Brown

I received my calling into the world of endurance sports in 1986 when a friend invited me to do a triathlon. I scrambled to borrow a bike and a helmet and had no idea what else to wear, but was instantly drawn in and addicted to what I saw on race day. I couldn’t quite put my finger on what made these people tick, but I knew I wanted to be one of them.

I started racing shorter races, but it wasn’t too long before I worked my way up to marathons and eventually full-distance triathlons. I was healthy. I was happy. And I felt like I was setting good examples of healthy living for my kids who came to so many of my races. That was my lifestyle for 20 years. And it was a good one.

Cancer. It happens. It happened to me. On February 24, 2006 my wife and I sat in the office of an oncologist I had just met and tried to comprehend what he was telling us. I had Chronic Lymphocytic Leukemia (CLL). This would require several weeks of chemotherapy and then two years of follow up treatments. Even that wouldn’t "cure" the disease, as it is a chronic blood cancer that would need to be lived with and managed. This diagnosis came out of the blue.

I assumed I of all people should get a free pass on disease like cancer. I was wrong.

My perspective on cancer was always that it was something that happened to others. An athlete like me doesn’t get sick. I was an IRONMAN finisher, several times over. I grew up as one of those active kids who played every sport that I could sink my teeth into. I attended college on a soccer scholarship. I hung on the fringe of a pro soccer career and then played semi professionally for a number of years. I lived clean and healthy. So I assumed I of all people should get a free pass on disease like cancer. I was wrong.

So, with every emotion known to the human psyche spinning in a mad freefall, I began the first of four one-week rounds of chemotherapy at our local hospital. I hit some physical and emotional dark patches. But they certainly weren’t all dark. These patches were cyclical and interspersed with rays of hope. Things got better. My tolerance to the treatment drugs improved and I started showing signs of progress. By the third round my blood counts were slowly returning to normal and I had reached my first remission.

We made a party out of chemo whenever we could. My wife came to every treatment. My daughters occasionally skipped school to come hang out with us and we would often all each lunch together in the chemo suite. I always tried to be the class clown to add a little levity to the situation. But that’s who I am in almost any situation.

As I reconciled everything that I was experiencing, I made a few key decisions that kept me sane and, at the same time, changed my life. One was to practice the simple adage of controlling the things I could control. I couldn’t control the diagnosis, but I could control how I reacted to that diagnosis. In that respect, my thought process was exactly the same as it is on race day. I drew many parallels between the challenges I was facing with the disease and the challenges we all face in sport and life.

Another critical decision I made was to remain in motion. I have learned through the years that I am always happiest when I am moving. I’ve never known if I am running towards, or away, from something, but when I am moving, I am whole. It is more than just a way to stay in shape. It is how I have always coped and it is my therapy. So I held onto that and kept up my training through my treatments—often running home from chemo. I made it part of a game. I challenged the disease back and made up some of my own rules of engagement

The combination of effective drugs, a great medical team, an amazing support crew and a good mindset allowed me to remain in shape and I was back to racing five months after my diagnosis. I was fortunate in that I was able to race and train throughout my diagnosis and subsequent treatments. I was able to keep many key events on my calendar, including IRONMAN 70.3 Eagleman. Racing kept me in charge of my disease, which I showed when I crossed the finish line of the Chesapeakeman Ultra distance triathlon (recently renamed IRONMAN Maryland) seven months post diagnosis. Race director, and good friend, Rob Vigorito proudly (and with much emotion) dubbed me "RemissionMan."

During my 25 years of racing and seven years of living with a chronic leukemia I’ve managed 23 marathons, an ultra marathon in South Africa, 11 IRONMAN events, countless shorter races and … 46 visits to the chemotherapy suite. Lessons tend to come out of that kind of stuff. And I will continue to learn and build both relationships and experiences as time rolls on.

IRONMAN, and the entire triathlon community, has helped me live above this disease. Being able to combine the disease with my coaching efforts through The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society’s Team in Training program has enabled me to expand my footprint and make a greater impact in the lives of others. I would like to think that I am doing my part, be it ever so small, to facilitate positive change in this world.

Through IRONMAN I am reminded that all things are possible.

Steve Brown is a lifelong Philadelphia area resident, multisport enthusiast, coach and author. He lives in suburban Philadelphia, where he also serves on the Board of Directors of the Community YMCA of Eastern Delaware County and the Mid Atlantic Regional Council of USA Triathlon. For more, visit remissionman.com.